The Tale of Purple Slippers
by Kinola
Summary: Every cartoon gets their moment to shine, but one had been living in the Tooniverse for nine years and never got her chance. But who was this toon? What was she like? And most importantly, was she a toon?
1. Prologue: Tragedy Strikes

_Since the beginning of animation, hundreds of millions of cartoons have charmed and enchanted people from all around the world. Some you may already know: Mickey Mouse, Bugs Bunny, Homer Simpson, Roger Rabbit, and Peter Griffin. _

_All the cartoons, no matter which company they were created by, lived together in their own universe, dubbed the "Tooniverse." Here, they could socialize and frolic with each other. All of them (well, everyone except the villains) resided in Toontown, and everyone was as happy as they could be. And to this day, Toontown still expands. _

_However, not everything was happy. Some toons feel depressed due to the fact that they are no longer widely recognized by the new generations. Other toons have had their run come to an unexpected end due to a cancellation of their show. But their was no tale much sadder than that of the cartoon called "Purple Slippers."_

_Purple Slippers. Some were not there during her nine years of existence in Toontown. According to many, Purple Slippers was the only Toontown resident who never made any kind of theatrical or television debut. But she had possessed the right stuff, she was always happy and playful (a positive attitude for a cartoon), and she was always ready to explore her world. _

_But what many do not know was that Purple Slippers wasn't even a cartoon to begin with. _

* * *

_June 17, 1975_

_Dickinson, North Dakota_

"Alexia! Alexia, my darling, where are you?" Clara Jameson called out as she smoothed her pink and blue waitress dress out.

"In here, Mama!" a five-year-old girl shouted from the living room.

Clara strode into her navy blue-painted living room to find little Alexia watching Looney Tunes cartoons. Dressed only in a pink T-shirt and her butterfly pajama bottoms, Alexia giggled at the antics of Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, and Elmer Fudd, while on the floor around her lay several dolls and toys, most of whom had previously belonged to Clara when she was a child.

"Alexia, could you please turn around and look at me?" Clara asked her daughter as politely as she could. The little blond-haired girl looked over her shoulder at her mother. The two looked very identical to each other, but the only thing that could be used to tell them apart were the color of their eyes. While Clara's eyes were the same color as her living room, Alexia's eyes were a deep shade of brown.

"What is it, Mama?" Alexia squeaked.

"I have to go to work, my darling," Clara explained to her. "I won't be back until three this afternoon. Mrs. Rowe is going to look after you while I'm gone."

Alexia scrunched her nose. "Mrs. Rowe? Yuck! She won't let me watch TV. She always wants me to color in my coloring books, or go with her when she shops." She shuddered.

"Well, I believe that Mrs. Rowe doesn't want you to watch television all day, sweetie," Clara stated. "It is not good just to stare at it all day. It will hurt your eyes." Alexia pretended that she didn't hear her mother's comment.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Clara strode over to open it and was greeted by a middle-aged woman wearing a sunhat and carrying a small, red purse. The scent of perfume was strong on her.

"Hello, Mrs. Rowe!" Clara chirped. "How nice to see you!"

"Good morning, Clara," Mrs. Rowe greeted her casually. "Is Miss Alexia up?"

Clara nodded and called out for her daughter, who reluctantly came. "Mornin', Mrs. Rowe," Alexia said flatly.

"Good morning to you, Alexia," Mrs. Rowe said to her. She looked up at Clara. "Are you heading off to work, then?"

Clara nodded. "I won't be home until three," she replied. "Give Alexia a jelly sandwich if she gets hungry, and if you're going out, have her get on some clothes." She motioned to Alexia's pajama bottoms. "I don't want her prancing around in her PJs."

"Understood. But why does she need a jelly sandwich? Shouldn't she have peanut butter with it?"

"Peanut butter is yucky!" Alexia stated. She pointed at her open mouth and gagged.

"Alexia, don't do that in front of Mrs. Rowe," Clara told her sternly. She leaned down towards her and said in a soft voice, "Now, I'm going to be leaving. Behave for your babysitter, and have a good day. I love you." She kissed Alexia on her forehead.

"Love you too, Mama," Alexia said, looking up into her mother's deep blue eyes. Then, Clara Jameson left.

* * *

Alexia tried to spend the whole morning watching cartoons, but Mrs. Rowe had other plans. She made Alexia get dressed, and once the girl had put on a pair of overalls over her shirt, she and her babysitter went off to do errands.

First, they went to a shoe store, where Mrs. Rowe bought a pair of saddle shoes for her niece's birthday. Then, they went to the supermarket and bought some vegetables for Clara. And finally, Alexia found herself dragged to the post office, where Mrs. Rowe dropped off some letters to mail. While there, Alexia had some fun with some stamps. She tore them out of the plastic wrap and proceeded to stick them onto the wall.

"Alexia Jameson! Stop that right now!" Mrs. Rowe shouted at her once she saw what she was doing. She grabbed the little girl by her wrist and dragged her away from the wall, still shouting. "What on earth were you thinking?"

"I though the wall would be prettier with stickers," Alexia said calmly.

"These are not stickers, young lady; they are stamps," Mrs. Rowe stated matter-of-factly, pointing at the wall. "People use them for mail. And you just ruined the chance for people to use these ones!"

Alexia stared at the wall and thought to herself, _"Well, I don't care. The wall looks pretty."_

Mrs. Rowe and Alexia were escorted out of the post office while someone went to peel the stamps off. While sitting in the back seat of her babysitter's Camry, Alexia pouted.

_"I like the wall with stickers or stamps or whatever those were,"_ she thought to herself grumpily. _"They just can't appreciate prettiness." _She looked out the window and watched the scenery go by. The Camry stopped at an intersection, and right outside her window, Alexia saw a playground, where several children played with one another. She sighed.

Alexia was considered by the other children to be "odd" and she didn't know why. Ever since the first day of preschool, Alexia had been shunned by every single child she met. And every night, she would look in the mirror and try to see what was the matter with herself. She sighed again and propped her chin on her fists.

At the intersection, Mrs. Rowe would have to turn right to get back to the red-bricked bungalow that Alexia and her mother lived at. Instead, she kept going straight as soon as the light turned green. Alexia was surprised by this.

"Mrs. Rowe, where are we going?" Alexia cried out. "I thought we were going home!"

"We're going out to lunch," Mrs. Rowe replied, not turning around. "We're going to have it at the diner where your mother works."

"Really?" Alexia asked, eyes wide. Never before had they done this.

"Yes, young lady. Now, please behave for the rest of the drive."

* * *

The name of the diner where Clara worked as a waitress was Bee-Bee's. Bee-Bee's was painted a light green, with red and blue neon lights forming the names. On either side of the diner were two large oak trees, and curving around on all sides of Bee-Bee's were beautiful yellow and white flowers.

And parked right outside of the diner were several police cars and two ambulances.

When Mrs. Rowe saw the cars, she gasped. "Oh, my goodness!" she exclaimed softly. She pulled her Camry into the parking lot of the supermarket across the street and unbuckled her seatbelt.

"What's goin' on, Mrs. Rowe?" Alexia piped up.

"Stay there, young lady," Mrs. Rowe ordered her. "I will be right back." She got out of the car and hurried as fast as she could towards Bee-Bee's.

Once there, she stepped up to a policeman with dark hair. "Excuse me, sir, what's happened here?" she asked him.

The policeman looked at her. "Why do you wish to know?"

"I am looking after the daughter of an employee who works here, and we were planning to come here for lunch."

"What is the name of the employee?"

"Clara Jameson."

The policeman sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, miss, it wasn't pretty. A man named Herman Valenti stormed into the place with a Colt SCAMP. From what we heard, he had suffered a recent break-up with an employee who worked at the restaurant, Phyllis Norman. Four people were shot and...and..." He hesitated.

"And what, sir?" Mrs. Rowe demanded. "Tell me!"

"...Miss Clara Jameson was among them."

Mrs. Rowe gasped in horror. "Is she being taken to a hospital?" The policeman shook his head. "Then...where is she?"

The policeman struggled to find the suitable words. "Well, miss, when Miss Jameson was shot...it...well, it...hit her in the chest, right where her heart was. I'm sorry, but Miss Jameson is gone."

Mrs. Rowe was in shock. She couldn't believe it. Alexia's mother was dead. Those words kept running through her head as she slowly walked towards the car, occasionally glancing over her shoulder, expecting Clara to pop up unharmed.

_"I'm sorry, but Miss Jameson is gone."_

How was Alexia going to handle the news?

Mrs. Rowe reached her car and opened the door. Alexia was watching her with a scowl on her face.

"When are we going to eat?" she demanded sulkily. "I'm hungry, Mrs. Rowe!"

"Your...your mother is too busy, dear," Mrs. Rowe lied. "We'll go back home and...and...something." She started up the car and drove off, not wanting to be near that diner any longer.

* * *

After having a jelly sandwich and a cup of apple juice for lunch, Alexia was told to go play in her room. The girl didn't have many toys on her right now; just two rag dolls, a Mickey Mouse plush, a teddy bear named "Winslow," and a pink rubber duck she got at a carnival last year.

She set her toys on her twin bed and proceeded to tell a story by using them as the actors. It was about how a beautiful princess (Alexia) was captured by two evil witches (her rag dolls, Loretta and Daisy Lou) and kept guarded by a friendly dragon (the pink rubber duck, Theodore Bill) as she sat in the tower, and how the prince (Winslow the teddy bear) was able to help save her and the friendly "dragon" with the help from the wise wizard (the Mickey Mouse plush).

She was just getting to the part where she and Theodore Bill would've had a big musical number (singing "The Bare Necessities") when she heard voices outside of her room. At first, she ignored them, but when her mother's name was uttered, Alexia grew curious. Clutching Theodore Bill close to her chest, the little girl tiptoed out of her room and to the hallway, where she heard three voices coming out of the living room. Alexia could only identify one as Mrs. Rowe's, but what of the other two? Were they old friends of her mother's?

"...not a big mass. Just a song or two, a passage read, but that will be all. Clara was not religious," Mrs. Rowe said.

"Does Miss Jameson have any relatives?" a masculine voice asked.

"Just her daughter, but other than that, Clara doesn't have any. She never told me anything about her family, and there are no pictures of her with anyone who has the slightest resemblance to her. I believe she might be an orphan."

"What about the daughter? Surely she must have a father."

"Clara hasn't told me much of Alexia's father. I think his last name is Wagner, and he lives far, far away from Dickinson. What else...? Oh, yes, I remember. This Wagner gentleman was also said to have already been married when she met him."

"With children?" This question was asked by a woman much younger than Mrs. Rowe.

"I don't know."

"Come now, let's get back to Miss Jameson," the masculine voice insisted. "Now, how old was she?"

"Thirty. Her birthday was in March."

"Okay..."

Alexia edged closer and closer towards the living room. _"Why are they asking so many questions about Mama and me?"_ she thought to herself. She looked down at Theodore Bill and asked him in a soft voice, "What should I do? Should I go meet these people?"

The rubber duck said nothing.

"Okay, Theodore Bill, I'll go meet these people." Alexia placed her duck on the floor and crawled up until she reached the three stairs that separated her from the living room. From there, she could actually get a view of the two new people more clearly.

She saw Mrs. Rowe sitting on the red armchair positioned by the stairs. She did not see her. Across from her sat a man and a woman, both dressed in black. She hesitated on whether or not to go out there and ask the man and woman who they were. The conversation continued.

"And where will the luncheon be held?" the woman asked.

"I don't think we'll have a luncheon. I don't think many people will attend."

Alexia tilted her head. "We're having a party?" she guessed, failing to keep herself quiet.

"Alexia? Is that you?" Mrs. Rowe called out.

"Yes, Mrs. Rowe." Alexia came down the steps and entered the living room. "What's going on? Are we having a party for my Mama?"

Mrs. Rowe shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, dear, but we aren't," she responded.

"Then who is the party for?"

"It's for your mother, but it is not a party," the man said. Alexia turned to look at him. He was older than her mother but younger than Mrs. Rowe, with a wine red tie around his neck.

"It's for my Mama, but it's not a party?" Alexia inquired, puzzled. "So...what is it going to be?"

The woman swallowed. "Young lady, we have some very bad news for you," she murmured. She kneeled before Alexia and looked right into the girl's deep brown irises. "Your mother...your mother is no longer with us."

"No longer with me?" Alexia was extremely confused. "Did she move without me?"

The woman shook her head. "No, dear. There was a bad thing at the diner your mother worked at and...your mother is gone."

"Gone? So you're not saying she moved away but she left somehow?" Alexia guessed, scratching her head.

"Your mother _died_, young lady," the man said, hoping to clear things up. "She's passed away. She's gone off into heaven. She's dead."

"Dead?" Alexia asked, eyes widening. "Well...when will she come back?"

"I'm afraid never, Alexia," Mrs. Rowe sighed. "Your mother isn't coming back. When someone dies, you never come back."

Alexia felt her heart pounding inside of her chest. Her mother was dead? But that was impossible!

"No, my Mama can't be dead!" she cried. "My Mama can't be dead because she was walking and talking and not being dead this morning! She woke me up and gave me breakfast and let me watch cartoons and said goodbye to me! And if she was not dead this morning, she is _not_ dead now!" She stamped her foot for emphasis.

"Young lady, please understand," the woman begged. "You must—"

"She is _not_ dead!" Alexia shrieked at her. "My Mama is _not_ dead!" And with that, she darted back into her room and slammed her bedroom door.

Mrs. Rowe sighed and leaned back into her seat. "The poor dear," she muttered.

The woman rubbed her temples. "They're so hard to convince at this age," she sighed.

* * *

_June 21, 1975_

_St. Paul's Cemetery_

_Dickinson, North Dakota_

**Clara F. Jameson**

**Beloved Mother**

**March 13, 1945 – June 17, 1975**

**John 3:16**

Alexia had been very, very quiet throughout her mother's funeral mass and burial. Mrs. Rowe and her husband stayed close with her as the priest said the blessings. Lying inside a silver coffin, Clara was dressed in a simple blue dress, the only outfit she had that was actually fancy. Instead of having a rosary in her hands, the woman had a small bouquet of flowers Alexia had picked.

Just as Mrs. Rowe had said, the mass wasn't long and there was no luncheon. As soon as they left the cemetery, Mr. Rowe drove the Camry back to Alexia's house.

"You may go play in your room, Alexia," Mrs. Rowe said quietly to her. Alexia complied.

Mr. and Mrs. Rowe sat in silence in the navy blue living room. Starting tomorrow, they would have to start selling off Clara's possessions in order to pay for the funeral. It wouldn't be so difficult getting rid of some things; Phyllis Norman (who survived the shooting) offered to donate some of Clara's clothes and furniture to charity, while Clara's car, a Ford, would probably be sold to a used car dealer.

But the real problem was with Alexia. Where would she go? She didn't have any relatives, and it was quite clear that the Rowe house was not big enough for a third person. So who could keep her?

The doorbell rang at that moment. Mr. Rowe stood up and answered it.

"Oh, good afternoon, Mrs. Greenberg," Mr. Rowe greeted the brown-haired woman standing on the porch. "Won't you come in?"

"Certainly, Mr. Rowe," Mrs. Greenberg replied. "And please, I am only called Mrs. Greenberg at work. You may call me Mary."

"If that is what you wish, Mary."

Mary Greenberg was escorted into the navy blue living room, where she sat down on the couch and stared at the walls, frowning. Mr. and Mrs. Rowe watched her, quiet. Then, Mary spoke.

"These walls were _never_ meant to be painted _that_ shade of blue," she commented. "It must be whitewashed immediately, and that goes the same for the other rooms in this house. The furniture in this room _must_ be sold off as soon as possible. I am sure someone in this world will want that kind of furniture. And the drapes that she had put on her windows are to be thrown into the trash. Beige and dark blue do _not_ go desirably together. And the photographs—"

"Mary Greenberg, please!" Mrs. Rowe exclaimed. "We've just laid a wonderful mother to rest today."

"Oh, really? Who is she?"

"The one who rented this bungalow from you!"

"I know that," Mary snapped. "I _do_ read the obituary section of the newspaper, you know." She crossed her arms and stated, "So, I hear Miss Jameson's child cannot find a place to stay?"

Mrs. Rowe nodded. "We cannot keep her with us. There isn't any room in our home for her. And you shouldn't be making her situation worse!"

"That's right, Mary," Mr. Rowe concurred. "After all, Alexia is still a young child."

"I am not to make things worse," Mary retorted. "I am here to make things better, for her and you."

Mr. Rowe furrowed his brows. "How will you do that?"

"With this." Mary handed Mr. Rowe a piece of paper. "My sister Karen made this advertisement herself."

Mr. Rowe studied the paper for a moment before handing it to his wife. She took it and looked at it herself.

**Wilson House for Girls**

_For the past seven years, we have been transforming young, fickle girls into bright and beautiful women. These girls have lived in our 4-bedroom, 3-bath house surrounded by proud trees and pretty flowers that emit a wondrous smell in the springtime. _

_With cozy beds to sleep in and three square meals a day, every orphaned and abandoned girl will be treated like the princesses they should be. _

_(Contact Karen Wilson and Bess Brown for more information)_

"I don't know about this," said Mrs. Rowe. "How old are the girls in this home of your sister's?"

"The youngest is only nine," Mary told her. "But don't worry; the girls at the home are taught how to behave in front of a new guest. Alicia will fit in perfectly."

"It's Alexia," Mrs. Rowe corrected her.

"Of course. I can arrange for the girl to leave as early as tomorrow, if you'd like."

"Where is this at?"

"Amidon. Not far from here."

Meanwhile, Alexia was huddled by her bedroom door, not believing what she was hearing. First, her mother died, and now, the landlady wanted to send her away from home? No! No, no, no, no, _no_! She was not, not, _not_ going to let Mary do that!

* * *

Later that evening, Mrs. Rowe tucked Alexia into bed and told her about the Wilson Home, adding that she would be given the same amount of care and attention her own mother had given her.

"It will be all right, Alexia," Mrs. Rowe assured her. "I will come to visit you once in a while." Alexia did not say anything. She could only nod her head.

The little girl laid her head down on her pillow as Mrs. Rowe strolled over to her bedroom door and turned out the light.

The next morning, Alexia Jameson was not in her bed.

She was gone.


	2. The Purple Slippers

**I tried to put lyrics from a song at the beginning of this chapter, but no matter how many times I tried to align it in the center, it goes back to the left as if it were never touched. After hundreds of thousands of attempts, I gave up and deleted that part. **

**The next chapter will definitely have toons.**

* * *

_Three Years Later_

_July 1979_

_Chicago, Illinois_

"Okay, is everyone ready?"

"Yeah."

"Everyone knows what to do?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. On my mark...three, two, one!"

Five children darted into the Jewel Osco as fast as they could. At the lead was a boy of Italian descent, clothed in torn jeans and a White Sox T-shirt. Behind him came twin Asian boys who wore matching red Polo shirts, and following them were two girls. One had a baseball cap covering her brown hair, while the other one had her blond hair cropped down to her earlobes.

"C'mon, Lily!" the blond girl hollered to her female companion. "Let's go get some cookies!"

"You bet, Alexia!" Lily said with a grin.

Once inside, the five children split up, with Lily and Alexia heading towards the bakery. The Italian boy, Alonzo, rushed towards the aisles that contained the soft drinks, while the twin boys, Jimmy and Freddy, scurried on over to the ice cream aisle.

Alexia and Lily had to be fast, for it was not the first time that they'd gone shoplifting from this store. Almost everybody who shopped or worked here knew them. Alexia spotted several bags of cookies on a table. She tapped Lily on the shoulder and pointed to it. Lily nodded.

They slowed their pace down to a casual walk. Lily walked up to the table first, grabbing two bags of cookies. Alexia trotted behind and snatched three. "We'll need plenty of these," she thought to herself. "Freddy eats more than we do."

"Look, it those awful children again!" a woman shrieked.

"Oh, no!" another woman cried. "They're stealing again! Why can't anyone punish those two?"

Alexia looked over at Lily, who remarked, "Wow, that was pretty fast. Last time, we weren't caught until we were about to exit."

"Let's skedaddle, Lily!" Alexia hollered, picking up the pace. The brown-haired girl followed her, her sneakers making squeaking sounds against the floor. Coming after them was a woman wearing a green apron. She was holding a broom in both hands and shouting, "Come back here, you brats! Put those back!"

Alexia laughed. "Retreat, retreat!" she chanted. "Retreat, retreat!" She laughed again.

The girls were swift, and in no time, they were out of the Jewel Osco. They dashed across the street and ducked behind a dumpster. Lily slumped against it, breathing heavily.

"That was way too close," Alexia gasped.

"You said it," Lily commented, opening up one of the bags of cookies. "Would you like a cookie?"

"No, not right now," Alexia replied. "Let's wait before Alonzo and the twins pop up."

Just a minute after Alexia said that, there came a shout from inside the Jewel, and in seconds, Alonzo appeared, clutching six twenty-ounce bottles of soda to his chest. Behind him were the twins, Freddy and Jimmy. Jimmy carried two cartons of ice cream while Freddy only had a box of cheese crackers and two bottles of chocolate syrup.

Alexia whooped in delight as the boys came over. "You got the goods!" she exclaimed.

Alonzo was proud of himself. "Mission was successful," he stated, beaming. "Now, return to the base, Raccoons."

* * *

This was how Alexia lived since her mother Clara died. When she'd learned about the attempts to take her to the Wilson House, Alexia decided that she would live the life of a street kid, going on all sorts of adventures and doing whatever she pleased. But she had not stayed in one place for more than three months. So far, Alexia had been in Bismarck, St. Paul, Duluth, Madison, Milwaukee, Green Bay, and finally Chicago, where she currently lived with Alonzo and his group of street children, in an abandoned apartment near the Loop.

Alonzo led the other four into the apartment through the back door. They climbed up a flight of dirty, creaky stairs and to a large room with stained carpeting and torn wallpaper. In one corner of the room lay a pile of torn, dirtied sheets. This was where Alexia had lived with Alonzo and his group (called "The Raccoons") for the past two and a half months.

Two and a half months. Alexia felt that her time in the Windy City was coming to an end, but she didn't want to leave. Alonzo and his group had been nicer to her, nicer than the other street kids she'd met.

"Let's get the sheets out," Lily said, walking towards the pile. "We don't want to get things very messy." She grabbed a sheet with roses on it and pulled it towards the middle of the room.

"That one sheet will do, Lily," Alonzo commented, unscrewing the cap off of one of the bottles. "Freddy, open up the cheese crackers, and Jimmy, get the lids off the ice cream."

In minutes, the children were sitting in a circle on the sheet, feasting off of their prizes. Alexia dipped two cheese crackers into the carton of vanilla ice cream. Lily and Freddy had a tussle over the chocolate syrup, and it ended when they both squeeze the bottle and cause the contents to squirt out like a fountain. It spattered over the sheets and onto some chocolate chips cookies that were lying about.

"That's okay!" Alonzo assured them in a happy voice. "The sheet is already ruined as it is." Alexia took out another cheese cracker and dipped it into a small puddle of chocolate syrup. She took a bite out of it and boasted, "And it makes the crackers even more delicious!"

"That is so gross," Lily observed, shuddering. Alexia ignored her.

One of the twins, Jimmy, stood up, two cookies in each hand. He calmly strode over to the nearest window and looked out. In front of the abandoned apartment was a three-way intersection, so he could see the buses and cars rolling down the streets and the people walking down sidewalks on the other side. But then, he caught sight of a group of four children coming towards the intersection. They stopped near the crosswalk and patiently waited for the light to turn red before marching across. Jimmy gasped.

"Guys!" he hollered. "The Beavers are comin', The Beavers are comin'!"

Instantly, the rest of The Raccoons were on their feet. The Beavers were another group of street children that lived in Chicago, hailing from the Near West Side. It consisted of only four members: Bobby, Sam, Ruth, and Ed. Of the four, Bobby was the leader, with Ruth, his sister, as second-in-command. The Beavers also happened to be the rivals of The Raccoons.

"Oh, no," Lily groaned. "Oh, no, no, no."

"What're we gonna do, Alonzo?" Alexia wailed.

"Don't worry," Alonzo assured the girls. "We're gonna do what we did last time."

"You mean scatter?" Freddy asked, surprised. "But Alonzo, last time we scattered, it took about a week to find everybody."

"Yeah," Jimmy agreed. "I was stuck in Burnside the whole time." He scowled, remembering how he'd been the final member to be found after the previous scattering.

"Just don't go too far!" Alonzo shouted. "C'mon, now!"

Together, all five children ran down the stairs and out the back door, just in time to see The Beavers advancing on them.

"Lookie here," a boy with dirt brown hair sneered. "It's our old pals, The Raccoons."

"Good day, Bobby," Alonzo growled. "I'm sorry, but we can't stay. We need to go places."

"You must stay, Al," a girl standing next to Bobby said, smiling deviously. "We were 'bout to play a game." She looked to her brother. "Right, Bobby?"

"Yeah," Bobby said, smirking. "It's called 'Raccoon Smackdown.' Ed, Sam; tell 'em the rules."

"Okay, Bobby," one of the remaining boys said. This boy's ash blond hair was extremely greasy. He turned to eye Alexia and the other four. "The game is simple: we knock ya down and keep ya down while Ruth and Bobby get your food."

"And don't ya dare say ya don't have nothin'," a boy of Latino origin added. "Ruth was spyin' on ya guys down at Jewel earlier. We were so happy to be nearby when it happened."

The boy with the greasy blond hair, Sam, nodded. "Yeah."

None of The Raccoons moved. Sam and the Latino boy, Ed, were the nearest to them, and Ruth and Bobby were lingering back, waiting to make a mad dash into the apartment.

Then, just before Bobby could tell Ed and Sam to start the "game," Alexia stepped forward. Lily gasped. Alonzo reached for her, whispering, "What the heck do you think you're doin', Alexia?" Alexia looked over her shoulder and shushed him. She looked back to the boys, a smile on her face.

"Well, you two, it seems that Bobby has created a fine game," she said in a suave voice. "It actually sounds real fun to play." Bobby furrowed his brows; usually, Alexia would try to beg for mercy in situations like this. Who was this girl, and what had she done with the real Alexia?

"She's tryin' somethin'," Bobby muttered under his breath. "I know she is."

Alexia took another step, this time towards Ed. "But I don't think the rules sound very fair," she went on. "I mean, you guys tackle me and my pals? That isn't just."

"It's not?" Ed pondered, scratching his head.

Alexia shook her head. "No, my dear Eduardo, if that is your real name." She took one more step, so now she was looking right into Ed's eyes. "I think your group's game should have...equal play!" She shoved the Latino boy as hard as she could.

With a cry, Ed landed on his rump on the weed-infested grass that ruled the backyard of the abandoned apartment. Alexia turned to her friends and shouted, "Now, guys!"

Whooping with jollity, Alonzo, Freddy, Jimmy, and Lily charged at Ruth and Bobby, who retreated to the opposite end of the yard. Ed got up on his feet and ran back across the street in defeat, leaving Alexia with Sam. Alexia put her hands on her hips and stared at the blond boy.

"So, Sam, you wanna try 'Raccoon Smackdown' on me?" she asked him, amused.

"Uh..." Sam trailed off. He looked over his shoulder, seeing Ed's dissapearing form, and then he bolted after him, calling, "Wait up, Ed!"

"Oh, no you don't," Alexia muttered. She began to chase after Sam. "We _still_ have a game to play!"

* * *

Somehow, she lost them. She didn't know where she lost them, or how. One minute, she was following the fleeing form of Sam, who had been wearing a dirty blue jacket, and the next, she found herself bumping into a businessman, who had accused her of attempting to pickpocket him.

Alexia jumped back and hurried across the street as the businessman shouted for the police. She kept running until she reached the steps of a Catholic church. There, she plopped down on the bottom step to catch her breath.

She wondered how Alonzo and the others were handling Bobby and Ruth. _"Let's see,"_ she thought to herself, propping her chin on her fist. _"The Beavers had four members, and I was going after Sam and Ed. So it was four against two."_ She smiled. _"Yes, yes; they might've chased those two idiots off by now." _

Alexia looked over her shoulder and up at the church she was near. The building was some kind of beige color, with a brown roof on the bell tower. Just above the windows of the church were the words "Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam."

"This is the St. John Cantius Church?" Alexia wondered aloud. "I'm all the way in West Town?" She stood up and exclaimed, "Well, I can't be _very_ far from our base!" She was about to make her way back towards the Loop when she heard a commotion coming from the church's parking lot. Curious, Alexia walked over to see what was going on.

Several tables were set up, and on top of each one lay several items, such as clothes, clocks, toys, books, and more. Close to the parking lot's entrance sat a little card table, on which an old-fashioned cash register was set. At the cash register was a woman dressed in nun's clothing, and taped to the table was a poster that read "Rummage Sale This Week!"

"Oh, a rummage sale," Alexia mused. "Maybe they'll have something the others could use." Her smile faded. "Maybe a gift for them before I leave." She sighed unhappily.

The blond girl walked into the parking lot and scanned the tables. She saw a woman polishing some silverware at one table, and at another, a man and woman were quarreling by a table overflowing with magazines and large textbooks. Then, Alexia caught sight of a table at the far end of the parking lot, with a mountain of footwear piled atop it.

She looked down at the shoes on her feet. They were a pair of old Converse with shoelaces that were chewed on and ripped insoles. The girl had pulled them out of a giveaway bin up in Milwaukee and had been wearing them ever since. She decided that it was time for a change of shoes.

Alexia strolled up to the shoe table, and once she reached it, she pulled off her Converse and set them on the ground. On her tiptoes, she peered over the pile and called out, "Hello? Is anyone here?"

"Yes, we are!" a voice chirped. Two identical girls with auburn hair popped up on either side of the table. They wore matching green dresses and Mary Janes, but only one of them wore a large, pink ribbon in her hair. The one who didn't have a pink ribbon said, "Good afternoon! My name is Cindy, and this is my twin Tina." She gestured to the girl with the ribbon, who smiled and asked, "How may we help you?"

"Hi, I want to get a pair of shoes," Alexia replied.

Tina nodded. "Sure. Look around, see what you like." Alexia's gaze went down to the shoes on the table. She checked some pairs that caught her eye, and even tried some on. But when they were placed on her feet, the eight-year-old found something about them that she didn't like and took them off immediately. There were a whole bunch of reasons each time: they were too tight, they were too big, she didn't like the color, she thought they smelled. Tina and Cindy watched her, latent. Things like this had happened before; they were pretty much used to it by now.

Alexia had just kicked off a pair of red Mary Janes and reached up to look for another pair. She looked down at the remaining shoes. Most of them were too big for her, so she didn't bother with those. She caught sight of a pair of sandals and decided that, for the heck of it, she would try them on. She reached down and picked them up.

And that was when she caught sight of _them_.

A pair of ballet slippers had been hidden beneath the pair of sandals Alexia picked up. Silently, Alexia placed the sandals to the side and leaned closer to them, amazed. These pair were not pink, like the ones she'd seen in a shoe store back in Dickinson. Instead, these pair were a beautiful shade of purple.

Purple slippers. Alexia began to feel some sort of attraction to them.

"Excuse me, but who brought these slippers in?" Alexia inquired, pointing at the ballet slippers.

"We don't know," Tina answered, shrugging. "They weren't there yesterday."

"I didn't even know those were there until now," Cindy commented.

Alexia reached down to pick them up. "Well, do you mind if I take them?"

"Of course not," Tina said. "Go ahead."

"Make sure you pay for those," Cindy told her. "All the shoes at this table cost five dollars. Sister Marta will be collecting the money." She pointed to the nun sitting at the table.

Tina smiled at Alexia. "Have a nice day," she said politely.

Alexia took the purple ballet slippers and, wearing only her white socks, began to make her way to the sister, but suddenly, she stopped, remembering something: she _had_ no money!

The blond girl swallowed; she didn't have any idea of whether or not someone would catch her trying to sneak off and make her pay for the wonderful slippers she was holding. And when that nun found out she didn't have any cash on her, she would make Alexia return the slippers and go home empty-handed.

_"But it wouldn't hurt to try," _a voice said in her head. _"All you have to do is run very fast."_

"But I ditched my shoes," Alexia whispered softly. "I don't have another pair with me."

_"The slippers. You have the slippers. Put them on and run."_

Alexia nodded softly. "Okay." Looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to her, Alexia slipped the ballet slippers over her feet and then pulled a little on her socks. The slippers were actually quite comfortable to wear. The blond girl actually remembered asking her mother to sign her up for ballet classes when she was younger, only to have her request denied, the only reason being that they didn't have enough money to pay for them.

With the slippers on her feet, Alexia tiptoed quietly to the edge of the parking lot. She looked over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being watched. To her great relief, the people were focused on the items that were being sold at the rummage sale.

Nodding her head with satisfaction, Alexia began to run down the sidewalk, going in the direction of the Loop.


End file.
